The Powers of the Moon
by BlueLou24
Summary: Vegeta's quiet life revolves around his work. But, when someone moves in next door he's introduced to a new world that he never knew existed. Can he open himself up to this new world and possibly love? Or will he remain within the solitary life that he has created for himself? AU
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yes, it's another story. I should be working on Breathe but I just couldn't get this out of my head! I find myself staying up until 3 writing this when I have class at 7 or clinical at 6:30. This probably won't be a very long story, I'm thinking 5 to 6 chapters max, if it continues at the pace it's going. Just a little something! I hope you all enjoy it!

The Powers of the Moon

Chapter 1

The day was hot and sticky. Ice clinked happily against the sweating glass that rested in his hand against his knee. The front porch on which he sat was vast and pristine with sturdy white chairs staggered along its surface. He should be finishing up the final reports for the month that were stacked upon the small white table at his side. But, instead he found himself watching the house next to his. A small, tattered moving truck sat in the driveway. Two skinny boys clumsily moved the worn furniture into the house, pausing frequently to drink the lemonade that had been left out for them. He shook his head in disapproval. Why would anyone hire these idiots? They were obviously inexperienced, and he found himself grimacing on more than one occasion as they roughly forced the larger pieces through the door.

He had been watching the horror before him for a good hour and he had yet to catch a glimpse of the poor idiot who had hired the duo. No other vehicles were parked outside and he wondered if anyone was even there. A small droplet of sweat caressed his temple and he sigh in agitation. Why was it so damn hot? It was only May and already the merciless heat of summer was upon him. He drained the last of his drink and pulled a piece of ice into his mouth, crunching it slowly as he continued to watch the two boys scrape a large wardrobe through the front door. If he were a more caring person he would have probably gone over a while ago to help the poor kids, but he wasn't, so he didn't. He shook his head, placed the empty glass at his feet and reached over, pulling the first packet of paper off of the intimidating stack. He glanced up once more at the house, looking for any sign of another person before he set to work.

Three hours later he had finally finished up his work and he stood, stretching his muscled arms over his head. The boys had left not long ago, leaving the empty pitcher they had been drinking from resting haphazardly in their wake upon the driveway. Armatures. Still, no one had shown themselves and he wondered who his new neighbor was. Judging by the small amount of goods that had been moved into the house it was just one person, probably another corporate slave, like himself. His phone buzzed aggressively against his leg and he reached into his pocket, pulling the offending device into his view. The screen was illuminated in the soft orange glow of dusk and he pulled his finger across the screen before he held it up to his ear.

"Ouji." He answered and he was greeted by the sultry voice of his co-worker.

"Vegeta." She drawled."Did you by chance finish the numbers for the Howard account?" Vegeta smirked as he folded himself back into the chair he had just risen from.

"Yes." He rasped as he bent to pick up the glass and drank the liquid that had been produced from the ice that had long since melted.

"Thank god, I need the calculated expenditures for advertising." She mumbled distractedly and he pictured her shuffling through her desk, trying to find the report that she wanted.

"Couldn't figure it out, Sharon?" He teased and he heard her mumble a curse that he was sure was directed at him. He chuckled softly and reached back over to his small table and picked up the entire stack, setting it in his lap before he flipped through the pages, looking for the certain account.

"Fuck off, Ouji, not all of us choose to isolate ourselves on our days off." Vegeta continued to smirk as he searched the papers before him.

"I don't isolate myself, if I recall correctly it was you who refused to stay last night saying that you couldn't spend two days just fucking." He heard the woman gasp over the phone and he swiftly pulled the desired document out of the stack.

"Well, I could come back over if that's what you really want." Her voice had lowered and octave and he could almost smell her desire. In that moment a god awful squeal pierced the evening's tranquility and his head shot up in its direction. An ancient, rusted car puttered down the street, but before it passed him it turned into the drive next to his. His eyebrows drew up in surprise and he leaned forward in his chair to get a better look. What in the hell was moving next to him? The driver side door creaked open and he was stunned to see a petite woman step out of the death trap. She was draped in a long, floor length hunter green dress that appeared to be two sizes too big. She ducked back into the car and emerged with a large box that looked like it was about to crush her. She slammed the door with her hip and looked up at the house before her, a pleased smile playing across her soft, pink lips. Vegeta faintly heard his name being called over the phone that was lodged against his shoulder and he pulled it away from his ear, tapping the end button before he set it and his stack of papers down on the ground and stood, taking a small step forward to catch a better look at the woman that still stood looking up at the house.

The eyes that sat behind a pair of hideous glasses that were attached to a small chain around her neck were closed and her mouth moved in what looked like silent prayer. Great, some religious nut. He continued to stare in curiosity as she stood stock still, gripping the giant box to her stomach. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled again before making her way to the front door. Her eyes were crystal blue, matching the stunning hair that was piled up at the top of her head. She stopped at the pitcher that had been left behind and she set the box on the ground before carefully adding it to her load. Vegeta was mesmerized by this woman, and he had no idea why. She looked like a bad imitation of a librarian, but there was something about the way she held herself that had him intrigued. She glanced over at him and lifted her hand in a soft wave and he automatically brought his hand up in return greeting. She smiled again and looked down at the box before her.

Before he knew what he was doing he was down the steps that lead to his house and was cutting across the cool grass that separated their drives. She was still staring at the box when he arrived by her side and she looked up at him and beamed a dazzling smile.

"You need help with that?" He asked and she nodded, stepping away from the box so that he could lift it.

"Thank you so much." She said softly and quickly led the way to the front door. She pushed it open and stepped aside for him to enter. She followed behind him and he glanced around the house. It was much like his, vast and open, only the entry way was cluttered with faded sofas and large, unlabeled boxes.

"Where do you want it?" He asked, finally realizing she was staring at him, waiting for him to set the box down.

"Oh, anywhere's fine." She said as she swept her hand out in front of her, indicating that the box could be sat in any place. "I'm Bulma, by the way." She said as she walked over to a soft green couch and ran her fingers along the deep scratch that had been left in the wood during the move by the two imbeciles.

"That was a pretty stupid move, hiring those guys." He chided and she smiled softly, letting her fingers follow the jagged edges of the scratch.

"Well, they didn't have any other work. They're a local start up." She explained, unconcerned, and turned away from the couch. "Besides, it gives it a little character." He looked at her in confusion before he looked back to the couch. It didn't look like it needed anymore character. The thing probably wouldn't last the summer. "Well, thank you very much for your help…" She drew out her sentence, silently asking for his name.

"Vegeta." He supplied, and she smiled at him warmly.

"Vegeta." She finished, testing his name on her tongue and plopped down on the couch. He shifted his hands into his pockets and looked around once more.

"So, what brings you here?" He asked and he was shocked with himself. He was never one for small talk and now he was standing here in a stranger's house, sounding like some nosey buffoon.

"Oh, I just opened a little shop a few miles away and wanted to be closer." So she was an entrepreneur. Well, that was good, at least she wasn't some weirdo that had moved in on some inheritance.

"Well, if you need any help moving stuff around, just let me know." He offered and internally berated himself. Shut up, Ouji! You don't have time to play servant to some doe eyed girl. Bulma smiled a knowing smile and nodded.

"Thank you, Vegeta. I'll definitely keep that in mind." She stood from her couch and proceeded to the door opening it to let him through. "I appreciate your help. Don't be a stranger." Vegeta nodded and ducked through the door but felt a strange need to turn and see her again. He stopped at the bottom of her steps and turned swiftly, raising a hand in farewell. Bulma rested her head against the door and smiled again. "Blessed be." The phrase took him by surprise and he turned clumsily, heading back to his house.

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A car door was shut from somewhere outside and Vegeta's hand twitched in curiosity. That had been the eighth person to arrive on his sleepy street. He knew that it had to be the new woman. People that lived here were probably gearing up for bed, tucking their little ones in and answering any last minute e-mails before they had to return to the grind in the morning. Another car door slammed and Vegeta finally stood up. He set a small tumbler of brown liquid down on his sleek, glass dining room table before slowly ambling over to the large window that gave him a perfect view of the house across the way. In the driveway, beside the woman's beat up old rust bucket, sat several vehicles. They ranged from sedans to SUVs to motorcycles to Vespas to a sleek black number that he couldn't help but admire. Another car pulled up and he watched attentively as a couple stepped out. They smiled up at the home, much like the woman had done earlier. He grunted at their serenely happy expressions, stepping to the side so that he could get a better look at the couple.

The man had wild black hair that was in desperate need of a comb. His soft faded jeans hung loose over a worn pair of brown leather lace ups. And, a small silver pendant glinted under his crisp white t-shirt. He looked normal enough. The woman next to him was slender and severe. Even with her soft, happy smile he could tell that she was one that was wound pretty tight. She wore a pair of black jeans that clung to her frame and a white button up that contrasted starkly against her hair. The man next to her reached for her hand and they started up the small path that led to the woman's house. The front door open and a long rectangle of light reached out to bathe them in its warmth.

The woman stood in the door frame and smiled another dazzling smile at her arriving guests. She was currently wearing a piercing green strapless dress that swept around her softly. The new arrivals threw their arms open in greeting and Bulma scaled the steps, walking into their embraces. The severe woman seemed to transform before his eyes. Her sharp shoulders and rigid back softened considerably as she held Bulma to her. Bulma leaned back away from the couple, but never disengaged. Her hands came up and cupped the woman's face, sweeping one hand over the woman's forehead as she whispered softly, Bulma pulled her in again and the man beside them smiled a sad smile before he joined the hug. Bulma turned away from the couple and smiled again, waving her arm toward the entrance of her home. She spoke again and the couple laughed, following her through the warm doorway of light.

Vegeta stepped away from the window and made his way back to his drink. He downed the last of the liquor in one swig and sat the glass back down. He glanced over his shoulder again, towards the window before he started up the dark wooden stairs that lead to his bedroom. He pondered briefly on how the woman could have such an effect on people, even himself, as he pulled the black t-shirt over his head, throwing it in the laundry basket that sat right inside the door to his bedroom. Once he was stripped of his jeans he climbed into bed, not bothering with the blankets. It would be a hot night. He heard another car door shut outside and he growled in irritation. If that woman kept him up, so help him god, she would not be living here for long.

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It had been three months since the woman had moved in and he hadn't spoken to her except for the occasional hello that was shared when they happened to cross paths. He had made a conscious effort to avoid her. She was no good for him. He wasn't the type of man that was easily brought his knees by a woman and he had a sneaking suspicion that this woman would do just that. He was currently sitting on his porch, enjoying the warm breeze of the early morning, before the late summer heat made it unbearable. The woman was currently in her front yard, sitting on her knees, digging up some kind of herb. She had made quite an impressive garden since she had moved in. It was home to several rows and vegetables and herbs that she had cared for diligently over the past few months. She wore a ridiculous sun hat that fell over her back when she leaned forward to pull several stems from the plant before her. Her tanned shoulders were exposed by the red tank top that hung around her. She sat up and threw a few leaves into a basket at her side. Her gloved hands were covered in soil and when she wiped her brow a brown streak was smeared across her face and he smirked. Stupid woman.

She grabbed her basket and stood gracefully moving down to a different row. Her long legs stretched enticingly beneath her hideous red and blue checkered shorts before she kneeled again. He found himself wondering how she was up at such an early hour. She had been awake 'til all hours of the night throwing some sort of party again that she held every Friday night. He had become accustomed to seeing the same people come and go every weekend. The first time he had seen them he had dreaded some sort of loud, hippy festival. But, it had been a relatively quiet evening, and so had the many that followed. He continued to watch his neighbor dig through her garden. Suddenly she sat up rigidly as if something had bit her. He chuckled softly and pictured a spider or some other harmless creature scaring the serene woman. Her shoulders were held sharply around her and she stared down before her. He watched in interest to see what she would do and she suddenly began digging furiously pulling up several rotten carrots. He raised an eyebrow at the steadily growing pile. That was strange. She was out there every day, how had they managed to spoil?

She continued to dig through the row in a frenzy and he could have swore he heard her growl as she paused in her mission. She quickly pulled up what looked like a small black pillow and held it between her fingers as if it were a dead animal. Her face was grim and she roughly pushed the hat from her head, letting her aqua hair tumble into her face. Her expression was one of disgust and he was surprised to see such a negative emotion cross her face. She looked furious. He continued to watch as she stood stiffly and carried the small square over to the corner of her yard and drop it down. She roughly pulled the gloves from her hands and threw them to the ground as well. She placed her hands on her hips and continued to glare at the object before her before she turned to him and pointed a small finger towards the offending pile.

"Don't touch that." She demanded in a tone that he had never heard from her before she marched into her house, letting the storm door slam behind her. He was shocked at her reaction and he almost walked over to her yard to pick up the small item just to show her that no one told him what to do. The nerve of her. He stood from his seat and walked to the edge of his porch, looking towards her house. He could see her through the front windows and she was on the phone. Her hand moved in erratic gestures and he could tell she was yelling. What in the hell was wrong with her? She paced her living room, pulling random things off of the shelves, piling them onto a desk as she spoke. He would hate to be the person on the other end of that phone.

In the midst of her frantic collection of items she paused and let out a scream that he could hear from his position. He winced involuntarily. She stood in front of a large glass cabinet, rummaging through it roughly as she continued to talk on the phone. She hung up immediately and slammed the cabinet shut before she made her way outside again with her car keys in hand. Vegeta took a step back onto his porch as he watched her rip the door to her car open, step in and speed off down the road. That clenched it. The woman was insane. He sat back down in his usual spot and stared over into her yard. He so badly wanted to go and examine the little thing that had gotten her in such an uproar but he convinced himself that he really didn't care and he turned back to his news paper.

Twenty minutes after she had left she was back, and no less angry. She stepped out of her car, holding a bag that he recognized was from her store. He only knew because she had lended his other neighbor quite a few when her son needed something to transport the pieces of his school project in, and he had overheard Bulma telling the woman she had gotten an extra shipment and had no place for them. She marched back into her house and he shrugged, deciding that it was no concern of his. If the woman wanted to be insane, then let her. He glanced at his watch and sighed. He only had 8 more hours of peace before his work colleagues showed up for an annual progress meeting. It was his year to host and he was dreading it. At least Sharon would be there, which meant he would probably get laid, which wouldn't make the evening a total loss.

Sharon was the type of woman he needed, someone who couldn't get attached to him. That's how he wanted it, a good lay every now and then without the pressure of some lovesick woman who wanted to spend every moment with him. He glanced back towards Bulma's house briefly, wondering if she was the clingy type. He shook his head in distaste and stood, he needed to get ready before the caterer arrived.

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The 'meeting' was in full swing. People milled around the house, plucking small hors d'oeuvres off of the long, elegant table that sat against a window filled wall. Vegeta sat in a modern black chair, resting his arms on the high sides that rose up to encompass him. He watched his fellow co-workers mingle with one another, talking about the latest office gossip. He could feel Sharon's hungry gaze on him but he refused to look at her. He didn't need her husband to see them exchanging heated glances, he didn't want any blood on his freshly stained floors. He glanced out the window to his side. The woman's house was completely illuminated, and he could just make out a small pile, resting against the spokes of her fence. He felt someone at his side, waiting to be acknowledged. He dreaded another pointless conversation, these people were so dull. They always wanted to talk about the same thing, the accounts that they managed, or the new client that they had brought in, all hoping to catch his eye for a promotion.

He looked up to the waiting individual and found Sharon leaning against his chair.

"So, Ouji, What makes you think that you can avoid me all night?" She hissed vehemently. Vegeta glanced over towards her husband who was currently in what seemed like an enthralling conversation about the upcoming football season.

" I don't have time for this, Sharon. You're husband is here, you brought him, go give him grief." Sharon's face twisted, as if she had just swallowed something sour.

"Fuck you, Vegeta. I'm more than just some hole for you to put your dick in." Vegeta chuckled and turned his head to look her in the eye.

"That's exactly what you are. And I'm just a dick for you to shove into your hole. I thought that we had established this." Sharon stepped back from his chair and glared down at him.

"I thought we had evolved past that." Her voice was a harsh whisper and she looked up, scanning the room to make sure no one had heard her.

"No, we haven't. You're married, and I'm not interested in anything more." His monotone voice cut through her and she stood awkwardly before him.

"Fine, just fucking then." With that she swept across the room and fell onto her husband's arm, laughing seductively as she pressed her body against his. Vegeta rolled his eyes and shifted anxiously in his chair. He could not wait for this night to be over. Suddenly his doorbell rang and he sat up, looking around the room. Who else was fucking coming? He stood from his seat and pushed through the gaggle of couples to get to his door. When he opened it, Bulma stood outside. She looked frazzled and pale. Her long hair was pulled haphazardly behind her head and small whisps hung loose, framing her face. She wore a loose brown shawl and the same ghastly checkered shorts from early that day. He could still barely make out the faint dirt smudge on her forehead.

"Hey, Vegeta." She began. She sounded tired, her shoulders hunched around her as she looked behind her briefly before continuing. "I just wanted to apolo-"

"Vegeta, who is this? Invite her in!" Sharon was standing behind him, eyeing Bulma as if she were a dead cockroach. Her voice was sickeningly sweet and Vegeta wished beyond anything in that moment that it wasn't looked down upon to hit a women.

"This is my neighbor, Bulma. Sharon, please excuse us." With that he stepped outside and slammed the door behind him. She might have been a good fuck, but he had a hard time standing her otherwise. Bulma looked past him at the door and despite her withered appearance, smiled. Vegeta shuffled his feet and held his hand out, motioning for her to continue.

"Oh, yes. I wanted to apologize for early. It was rude of me to have spoken to you like that. I got a little carried away. My friends tell me that I have a bit of a temper, sorry you had to see it." Vegeta stared at her as if she had sprouted two heads. Temper? This woman? She pulled her shawl closer to her body as a cool breeze blew past.

"Autumns coming." She mumbled to herself and she took a step back, descending the three steps behind her with grace. "Oh! And, I'm having a little bon fire tonight, so don't be alarmed. It will be small and short. I hope it doesn't disturb you." She started on her way back to her house But Vegeta suddenly felt the familiar need to speak to her flood his system.

"Hey. I hope everything's ok." He muttered awkwardly. The words felt foreign and bitter on his tongue. Bulma turned and smiled at him, waving her hand before she continued on her way. I hope everything's ok?! Vegeta slapped his forehead and turned to go back inside. He needed to stay away from that woman.

When he reentered his house, Sharon was waiting in the entry way to the living room. Her arms were crossed and her expression was heated.

"I thought you weren't interested in anything more?" She mocked and Vegeta sighed.

"I don't know what you're talking about. That woman is the farthest away from something that I would want. She came over to notify me of a fire she was having, like good neighbors do." He gruffed, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or her. Sharon scoffed

"Please, I thought you were going to fall at her feet right here." She turned and poised herself to return to the party, but not before turning her head and locking her hate filled eyes with his.

"I hope everything's ok." She repeated in a mocking tone as she walked off. God, he hated her.

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A/N: Hmmm. I don't like her…GOOD! That's how it should be! Haha. Well here is the first installment of The Powers of the Moon! I hope you all enjoyed it. Next chapter we get to see a bit more of Bulma and we clear away some of the mystery that surrounds her. And maybe add a bit more. I don't know! Haha Please review! It makes me happier than a….I dunno. Happier than A me eating cake…and that's HAPPY!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2! This story is so fun to write! I love writing from Vegeta's POV! Anywho. We get to see Bulma in her element this chapter. YAY!

Disclaimer: I don't own DB/Z/GT.

The Powers of the Moon

Chapter 2

Finally, the last group of people were slowly shuffling through his door. It was late and he looked forward to sitting back and relaxing, maybe finishing off the bottle of bourbon that someone had neatly sat upon the dining room table. Sharon was hanging off of her husband, drunkenly, trying to quietly whisper about the prize he was going to receive on the way home. Vegeta crinkled his nose, stepping up behind the couple, silently hurrying them out. Sharon turned to look at him and smiled deviously.

"See you at work, Ouji. Tell that homely little girl I said hello." Vegeta rolled his eyes, but nodded, not wishing to speak with her any further. Sharon's husband grasped his hand, shaking it firmly, before he hauled his wife out to their car. A few others passed through the door, thanking him for hosting, and saying what a great time they had. As the last guest left he felt his shoulders sag and relief flood his body. He had never been so happy to be alone in his life. He scanned the open area before him and decided to clean up the atrocities left behind later. With that he swiftly moved to the dining room, grabbed the tall bottle and proceeded to the kitchen to grab a glass. He silently stood in the kitchen and contemplated moving upstairs to his bedroom, but decided against it. He heard a faint clatter out his back door and decided that the patio was a good a place as any. The back door swung open effortlessly and he stepped out with his drink in tow. The night had turned cool and Vegeta thought back to Bulma's earlier statement. It did appear that late August was quickly giving way to fall.

He pulled a black wrought iron chair away from the matching table and fell into it heavily. The bottle in his hand sloshed and he brought it to his lips, pulling the searing liquid into his mouth. It burned through his chest and he let out a small cough, unprepared for the intensity of it. He leaned back into the chair and propped his feet upon the table before him. Finally, some rest. A soft rustle drew his attention and he glanced over towards Bulma's back yard. In the light of the full moon he could make out her small figure pulling a heavy looking pot into the center of her yard. She seemed to be struggling with it, using all her might to heave the stout thing into its final place. He couldn't make out what it was exactly and the same curiosity that always came with the woman began to simmer deep within him.

Bulma stood from her bent position and walked quickly back into the house. She returned moments later with her arms filled with several items. When she returned to the center of her yard she gently placed her load on the ground before organizing them around the large pot. Once everything was in order she reached down and pulled up a small bowl, digging her hand into whatever it held. She walked in a wide circle, spreading the substance on the ground. He could barely make out the faint words that she spoke as she continued to take small steps around the objects that she had arranged. When she was done she reached into her pocket and fumbled for a moment before a match burned to life. She quickly lit a tall, while pillar candle before she shook the match out. He heard more soft murmurs come from her and she reached down again, picking up a thin, long stick that she held against the flame of the candle. A faint woodsy scent filled the night air. Vegeta pulled his legs from the table and set both the glass and bottle down in their place.

Bulma moved slowly around the circle once more, quietly whispering as she stopped and prepared another item. She finally kneeled down before the large pot and began dropping things into it. He squinted against the night and thought that he recognized the small pillow and gardening gloves fall from her hands. More ingredients were added and he watched as she crushed and poured several into the basin. Finally she ceased to move and he again heard more faint whispers float from her mouth. As a soft breeze blew past, causing the tall candle to flicker wildly, he heard the phrase 'let what is done be undone'. At that moment she lit another match and dropped it in with her other ingredients. A fire burst forth and he immediately recognized the pot as a cauldron. He blinked several times in confusion, watching the scene play out. The fire began to blaze hotter and suddenly a roaring, white flame danced high above the kneeling woman. Her soft, blue tendrils floated around her and she was wearing a strange, sky blue robe that was covered in embroidery. Her face was pulled taught in deep concentration. Her eyes pierced into the flame, as if willing it to spill a well hidden secret. As quickly as the flame has arisen, it blinked out.

All Vegeta could see was blackness. His eyes strain to adjust to the sudden darkness, wanting desperately to see what would happen next. He could faintly make out the woman as she continued to kneel in the soft grass. She seemed to be hunched over and as his vision became clearer he saw the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders. A loud sob escaped her and suddenly he felt intrusive. He turned away from the scene before him and stood quickly. His heart beat rapidly and he made an attempt to swallow but his mouth had run dry. What the hell was that? He quickly ushered himself back into his house and shut the door softly, not wanting to alert the woman to his presents.

His body hummed with electricity and he glanced back to the door he had just entered, wishing he hadn't left the bottle of liquor behind. The adrenaline that coursed through his body sent harsh tremors down his arms. Whatever he had just seen had affected him strongly. He could still feel the searing heat of the flame that had burned so brightly just moments ago. He pulled roughly on the tie around his neck, feeling as if it were suffocating him. The empty kitchen in which he stood now seemed too small. He hurriedly made his way to the open living area and sank into the chair that he had occupied earlier that night. Out the window Bulma's house was now completely dark and he found himself wondering if she had made it back inside. The curiosity mixed with his unease forced him out of the chair to pace the floor. Not an hour ago he had felt as if the world was placed upon his shoulder, weighing him down. Now, his body itched for action. There was no way that he could sit here in this empty house.

Moments later Vegeta was roughly pulling his front door shut. The night air had cooled even more and he, once again, glanced over to the woman's house. He forced his gaze forward, determined to get away from her for a while. He zipped the loose cotton jacket around him and cleared his front steps in one bound. His anxious body welcomed the pull and stretch of his muscles as he set off down the street. As he rounded the corner he took comfort in the familiar burn that eased its way through his legs. He didn't know where he was running, he just knew that he need to get as far away from that woman as he could. His concentration on the steady beat of his footsteps fell to the back ground as he rounded another corner. Images of the woman knelt before the giant flame flickered through his mind and he analyzed them in the most logical way he could. She had obviously burnt the small token to dismantle some perceived threat, but why the ritual? It seemed so natural to her, as if she had done it thousands of times. But that wasn't what had him so shook up.

The flame that had been birthed from the wide cauldron was unnatural. It hadn't burnt like a flame should. It was if it had been protesting, trying to roar forward and engulf the woman. But, it was as if it were trapped behind some sort of mystical wall. The woman's piercing eyes had been so full of contempt, yet so sorrowful. Streetlights blurred past him and he pushed harder, widening the distance between himself and the blue haired goddess. The tall trees that loomed overhead shrank into saplings, and the small streets gave way to busy cross sections. Random shops began to pop up and suddenly Vegeta stopped, feeling a familiar pull as he came up upon a small row of shops that sat back away from the main drags of town. They were quaint and charming, standing out from the more corporate scenery. The first business in the row seemed familiar to him. He studied the white letters that were painted on the door, trying to recall where he recognized them from. Suddenly an image of two young boys hoisting a faded, green couch through a narrow door came to his mind.

So this is where she found them. His breaths came out in short pants as he placed his hands against his back, trying to draw air into his lungs. His feet seemed to move on their own accord and he passed several more shops before he stopped again. The glass door that he stood before was covered in small white symbols he didn't recognize that were scattered around a white outline of a nude woman below a swollen moon. Her hands were thrown into the air and her hair was spread out wildly behind her. The words _light and love _were written in elegant script below the image. The words drew him closer and he felt a soft welcome mat at his feet. His eyes moved down to examine the small square and he jumped back in surprise. _Blessed Be_ was scrawled across it and he looked up again, finally recognizing the image upon the door. This was the woman's shop.

Sweet aromas surrounded him and cupped his hands against the glass, attempting to peer inside. Rows upon rows of bookshelves made up a majority of the inventory. Small tables filled with crystals and stones were scattered randomly and a glass case was placed at the side, filled with items that he couldn't make out. He took a step back and stared at the door. Who was this woman? As he continued to stare a small symbol caught his attention and he focused in on it. It was a small five point star. It twinkled with familiarity but he couldn't recall where he had seen it before. Negative emotions crept up from somewhere unknown and his brow creased in confusion. He examined the other symbols briefly, committing them to memory before he turned and began his trek back home.

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As Vegeta entered his home he didn't bother to remove his sweat soaked clothes before he made a bee line for his office. The dark room was cool and quiet and he quickly pulled back his chair to fall into it before he grabbed a hold of a small mouse, shaking the screen before him to life. As the computer worked to life, Vegeta leaned over to pulled a blank sheet of white paper from the tray of the printer that sat beside him. He scribbled down several of the symbols he had seen, making sure to draw the strange five pointed star at the top. A sense of ease fell over him as the symbols were etched on to the paper. The computer screen blinked on and he immediately opened the internet browser, deciding to first focus of the five point star. Several links filled the white screen and he read over a few briefly, identifying the star as a pentagram. His calmness slowly dissipated and he opened a link that claimed to give the history of pentagrams.

As he read his confusion grew. The words upon the screen glowed brightly and he felt nauseated as the words Satanism and evil began to repeat themselves as he scrolled down the page. Images of blood rites and sacrifices began to appear and he immediately switched the screen off, not wishing to see anymore. The darkness around him felt heavy and he stood immediately, feeling uneasy in his own home. He proceeded to the kitchen and stopped at the site of his back door. Was the woman some Satan worshiper? He had never put much thought into the beast, assuming it to be some fable that decrepit old men had conjured up to scare their views into the simple minded. But, after tonight he didn't know. He knew that what he saw was real. He slowly approached the backdoor and reached for the handle. As the door opened a soft breeze rolled through and he took a deep calming breath. A chuckle fell from his lips and he slouched, feeling stupid about getting so worked up about some woman and a little fire. The bottle he had left upon the table glinted in the moonlight and walked out onto the patio, resolved to get drunk and forget anything had ever happened.

The glass was cool against his palm and as he turned to go back inside a small, stout pot caught his attention. He was frozen in place as his mind returned to the events of the evening. Before he could comprehend what he was doing he was across his patio, standing at the small, white fence that encompassed the woman's yard. He set the bottle on the ground and heaved himself over the barrier with ease. He landed gracefully in the dewy grass and stood there for a moment, contemplating on if he should cross the few feet to quench his curiosity. His contemplation didn't last long and he was before the cauldron in seconds. Inside the heavy vessel were small clumps of white ash. They seemed to still hold their form and he bent slowly to pick them up, curious as to if they had survived the blaze.

A light blinked on behind him and he stood up stiffly, turning to the source of the disturbance. Behind him, the woman was standing on her own patio, dressed in a pair of soft green sweatpants and an overly large grey sweatshirt. He shifted uncomfortably before her and her stature sagged in exhaustion. The hand that she held behind her back dropped to her side and he caught a glimpse of what looked like a dagger.

"What are you doing here, Vegeta?" She asked tiredly. His mouth opened to respond but the words died in his throat. What was he to say? 'I think you might be a devil worshipper so I just came to investigate'? She stood watching him patiently, her eyes never leaving him. "Well, come on in, I've just started brewing some tea." She turned around and made her way through the blackened doorway that led to her house. Vegeta stood in the yard for a few more moments before he made his way inside as well. It seemed if he wanted answers he was going to have to get them from her.

Inside, the house was lit with dozens of candles. The warm yellow light danced across the walls, transforming the sparse area into something magical. A loud clank drew his attention and he watched the woman pull two mugs down from a cabinet that sat above the stove. A shiny red tea kettle steamed aggressively beside her and she reached for it just as it began to whistle. As she filled the mugs the scent of rosebuds and strawberry filled the room.

"You can have a seat at the table if you'd like." She said while filling the second mug. He turned to the table before him and saw the same dagger that she held earlier lying at the corner. He sat in the nearest chair and pulled the sharp object into his hands. It seemed to pulse with energy and he immediately placed it back on the table, unsure of what he had just felt. "It's an athame*." She explained as she eased herself into the chair across from him. She slid a mug towards him before taking a small sip from her own.

"What's an athame?" He asked as he drew the small white cup towards him.

"It's a magickal instrument, meant to direct energy." The explanation seemed so normal coming from her. He glanced at the athame, examining it again. It was a simple, silver blade with an ornate handle. Strong braided brass wrapped around it, ending at a large emerald that gleamed in the candle light. He turned his attention back to her, studying her. She looked even more tired than she had earlier. There were dark purple circles under her clear eyes and he felt a wave of concern wash over him.

"Are you a Satanist?" He asked without preamble. Her laughter shocked him and he dropped against the back of his chair. Her face brightened in humor and he felt himself smirking.

"I'm sorry," She apologized. "I don't mean to laugh. No, I'm not a Satanist. I'm a Wiccan. Wiccan's don't believe in Satan." Vegeta stared at her blankly and she smiled behind her mug, taking another drink. "Why would you ask me that?" She questioned and he suddenly felt very stupid.

"I, uh, there was a pentagram on the door of your shop." Her eyes grew in surprise and he felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"Oh, I wasn't aware you had been there." She said softly and placed her mug down gently. "Well, Pentagrams aren't just used for Satanism. It was first used in Wicca. It represents the union of the God and the Goddess for us. Satanists adopted it when they rebelled against the church. They usually have it upside down. That's where you can make the distinction." The small history lesson filled him with relief and he reached forward to grab his mug. "When were you at the shop?" She asked her intense stare seemingly piercing into his soul.

"I just kind of stumbled upon it tonight on my run." He muttered, gesturing to his clothes, as if they'd back his story up. Bulma nodded as if this was a good enough reason for her, not bothering to ask how he knew it was hers, before standing from her chair.

"Well, I think I'm going to try and get some rest." She glanced at the clock on the wall adjacent to her and he was shocked to see that it was four in the morning. But, his curiosity had not yet been satiated.

"What was that tonight?" He asked bluntly, not caring to use tact after the long evening.

"It was a purification ritual." She answered simply. He continued to stare at her and she sighed, falling back into the chair she had just risen from. "I found a hex bag in my garden today. It's a cheap, armature use of magick to try and scare me. I preformed the ritual to dispel any dark magick that was aimed at me." Her face fell in exhaustion as she spoke and he felt the need to reach out for her, but instead he crossed his arms over his chest, processing the information she had given him.

"And who would hex you?" He asked. "I thought Wiccan's didn't believe in the devil." The afterthought was tagged on quickly, his curiosity rearing up again.

"We don't, but that doesn't mean vicious intent doesn't exist." She pulled the ends of her sleeves over her hands and placed them in her lap, shivering slightly against the coolness of the room. "Many people want to hex me. I'm a very powerful witch who focuses on doing good, and the leader of a very powerful coven, I'm a prime target." Vegeta scoffed at her explanation.

"There is no such thing as witches." Bulma's brows drew down in frustration.

"Listen, I'm really very tired. It's been a long day and I really don't have it in me to play teacher to some skeptical asshole." Vegeta drew back in shock. Did she really just insult him?

"Fine, but next time you want to play make believe keep it inside." His voice was harsh and he was surprised to see her tired eyes light with rage.

"Get out of my house." She hissed and he continued to sit, enjoying the way the anger transformed her demure frame into that of a powerful force. The longer he sat before her the angrier she became. He laughed freely at her, unfolding his arms, placing them on the table before him, silently claiming that he wasn't leaving

"I'll leave when I'm ready." He tested, wishing to see how far he could push her.

"Caith solas ar*." As the words spilled from her mouth her arm snapped forward and a searing bolt of golden lightening crackled across the room, hitting the wall next to his head. He jumped back in self preservation, falling off his chair, landing on the floor with a heavy thump. He turned to look at the wall, a blackened, smoldering hole was burnt into it and he whipped his head back to Bulma, staring at her open mouthed.

Her body sagged and she slid to the floor, bringing her hands to her face. Sobs shook her body as he continued to stare. He stood from the carpeted ground and slowly made his way to her side.

"I'm so sorry." She sobbed, unable to remove her hands from her face. He kneeled beside her and awkwardly placed a hand on her back. She let her body fall into his as she continued to sob. "That was unforgivable. I'm so so sorry. There is no excuse for my behavior. I'm just so scared." The words were stuttered against her ragged breaths and he continued to pat her back, hoping to ease her tears.

When she finally stopped crying the sky outside was beginning to lighten with the coming sun. She pulled away from him and wiped her face on her sleeves before looking up at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this, I just have a lot on my plate right now." He shrugged, at a loss for words and stood. She looked up at him before standing as well, taking a step back from him.

"Well, I can…lend you some help if you need it." The unreasonable need to aide this woman overwhelmed him and he didn't really care this time if he sounded soft. Bulma nodded in thanks, walking to the door, opening it for him to leave. As he walked outside he felt an ill breeze pass him and heard Bulma gasp from the door way.

"Something's on it's way." He turned back to her and her eyes were now closed as her lips moving silently into the early morning, her hands drawing invisible symbols in the air around her. When she finished she turned her attention to him and quickly approached him, stopping dangerously close to him. Her right hand rose to his forehead and he felt her trace what felt like a 'Y' with a small tail between the branch. "For protection." He blinked at her and she smiled at him warmly, lingering a beat too long before she stepped away and went back inside, closing the door gently behind her.

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*Athame – it's pronounced a-tham-ee, rhymes with whammy.

*Caith solas ar – Gaelic for light up.

A/N: WHOOT! Hmmmm, what will our dear sweet couple do now? I personally think Vegeta it's just too much of a curious cat to stay away from Bulma at this point ;). Welp! Read and review please and thank you! OH! And smalsa, you are the best! Seriously, you are an inspiration! I'm sorry for any errors that this chapter may or may not have. I've just written it tonight and am too excited to put it up before I get some fresh eyes on it in the morning! Thank you everyone for your kind reviews I really REALLY appreciate them!


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